Season of Lovers 

    Discover the joy of developing your sensual self 
from the verbal and visual images of Mary Carol Lewis

An excerpt from the Book:

O, Brother of the Sun, Come!

Warm me with your sweet caress

That enters my very being

And brings a welcome spring

To all that lies in winter dormancy within.

My spirit longs for your spirit.

Come, thou long-awaited one.

Bring with you the music

That brings a symphony to my inner chamber,

And cleanse my body with the waters

that flow only from you.

Touch my body with the spirit of the Earth

Which you represent in my presence.

Teach me the rhythm of the Cosmos

from which you spring:

The constancy of the stars,

The radiance of the full moon,

The mysterious otherness of dark,

billowing clouds gathering for a tempest.

The majestic spirit of the thunder,

The gentle refreshment of the rain,

The slow, quiet opening of a blossom,

The bidding of the tiny sparrow

Who lacks the feathers (and the desire)

to leave the nest.

The powerful, cascading river

That moves everything in its path

to new adventures,

The ebb and flow of the waves of the sea,

The gentle comfort that settles in the garden

As the last raindrops fall quiet from the trees.

Touch me soft with your caresses.

Gentle my senses with your smooth hand

Moving along my body like the sun on a dial –

As the long minutes pass,

Over and over as the spring rains

That seem to follow one another

As endlessly as the seasons follow:

Follow, follow, never catching up

But never dropping off.

Bringing hope that you will never, never stop –

Except, perhaps, in ecstasy.

You draw me to your warm succulence

And soothe my fears with a touch.

Your touch draws a whimper from me:

Anxiety that my very clothing

Excludes you from my warmth.

I long to open myself to your embrace.

You move around me:

Softly and slowly as the newborn pup

That nuzzles his mother’s body

for the warm milk

That sustains his life and brings joy to his soul,

Caressing and playful as a melody

That soothes and capers

Around my head and body

When music is playing.

Sing to me, Brother of the Sun.

Your hand strokes,

And your body presents itself manly before me

And your kisses seek

And give reassurance that all is well.

I feel all of security within your arms.

You speak softly and slowly,

But not as slowly as your hand,

Which speaks a language

that my body understands.

My body knows the sweetness and glory

Of the language your hand whispers to it.

And it responds – slowly at first

Like a waking child,

Then ever more warmly and spontaneously.

My body recognizes you.

There are beautiful melodies dancing in my head

And lovely scenes

Shimmering in my eye’s darkness as you kiss,

And there is ecstasy rising and greeting you,

Brother of the Sun.

And as you continue to caress my body

And explore my soul –

Your fingers and lips begin their search

Of the lesser known regions.

Your touch finds its way

To the secret places of my body

And whisper again to my soul.

And the melody which you strum upon my body

Finds an echoing chord in yours

And my hand soothes away your concerns

And caresses your soul.

You pass your fingers deftly through my hair –

Rejoicing in the soft curls.

My hand works its way through your hair –

Caressing and compelling.

My touch is careless but deliberate,

Slow but stimulating –

It begins to waft within your soul

Toward your secret places.

Your touch falls gently upon my breast

And the wonder in your face

Shows your pleasure with its smooth roundness.

My nipples rouse slowly and touch your fingers

With their firmness.

They long for your lips.

O Brother of the Sun,

Rise upon me and fill me

with your fruitful warmth.

Come and drive away the muffled chill of winter

That lies deep within me.

Come and bring summer to my body

And joy to my soul. Come.

I am waiting for you.

An excerpt from Season of Lovers by Mary Carol Lewis

"It evoked in me a bigger sense of my own humanity and the enjoyment of life and gratitude for the subtlety and gentleness of my own inner and outer experiences in living. Thanks for being transparent enough to allow others to read your thoughts in verse!" 
— Kristi Maddox

"Your thoughtful book, Season of Lovers... expresses the feelings of other singles. I pray that writing those words also brought you pleasure and peace."  
—Lucy Marsden-Hottle

Sunlight

My kitten likes to sleep in the sunlight.

Even in late June he finds a board in the garden

which is splattered by some cedar chips.

He plays for a while, and then he winds himself up

and stretches himself out again.

He purrs for a while, then he sleeps in the sunlight.

He does not care about the news.

He is not concerned

about all that is happening under the Sun.

He is not thinking about the meaning of life.

He is simply enjoying the warmth of the sun.

 

My children enjoy playing in the sun.

They spend long days enjoying its brightness

and the shadows it creates for cooling off.

They shout for joy as they run and play on the grass

it draws out of the cold, silent earth each spring.

They are not interested in information on sunlight.

They have no desire to know about photons

and neutrons and light particles and pulsars.

They do not seek lessons on how worship of the sun

has affected human history.

They just want to play in the sunlight.

 

My heart rejoices in the sunlight.

My heart welcomes each bright new day

(each one fresher than the day before)

With songs in the garden.

I notice that the garden flowers lift their heads

and open their beauty to receive its radiance.

They rejoice with me and sing their silent joy.

I am not concerned about the allegories

the sun brings to mind

as it affects our experience of life.

I’ll just go outside and sing in the sunlight.